


He doesn't date sorceresses...

by jatejariwahl



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Het, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:20:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatejariwahl/pseuds/jatejariwahl
Summary: ...but he sure will fuck one at a masquerade that one time
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Original Female Character(s), Eskel/OFC
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	He doesn't date sorceresses...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inber/gifts).



> This fic is dedicated to author inber, who writes the best eskel/ofc out there. 
> 
> Bounties in 1271  
> “On a search for a katakan more than a century old and liable to kill drunkards, Eskel had to stalk the opponent for a month before dealing the final blow. Including trying to trap it in a masquerade ball held by the nobles to attract the vampire, during which he took the time to enjoy the company of a number of the ladies there.”

She knew of him. The stylized wolf mask only covered the upper part of his face.  
She had never seen such voluminous thick black hair so severely parted in the middle.  
It covered his forehead like gathered curtains, but that wasn’t the most striking thing about him.  
It was like lightning struck down his cheek and had bisected and split and split again down towards his chin. Whatever had hurt him had deeply gouged the side of his lip, for a piece of it was missing. Or, it had healed in a way that lifted his lip up in a permanent smirk or snarl. Every once in a while he reached up to absentmindedly scratch at it. He looked like he was waiting for someone, and had been for the better part of the evening. 

She drifted closer and closer to where he stood leaning against a wall, away from the throngs of merriment and dance. “A genuine witcher among us!” she called out. Startled at her recognition, his golden cat eyes peered from deep behind the mask.  
“The school of the wolf,” she said, chucking her chin at the medallion and then his mask. “Isn’t that a bit heavy handed?”  
“You must be Lady Marie,” he chuckled and inclined his head in a small bow.  
“No…” she flicked her eyes up and down his body and didn’t miss the way he frowned at her denial. “Though I wish I was,” she said with a purse of her lips. At that, he couldn’t help but quirk a flattered smile. She watched fascinated as his permanent smirk snarl deepened even further. Her lazy daydream musings drifted to the idea of those scarred lips on her own and then perhaps down her neck and body in a searing exploration...

The festivities wore on and his new friend stayed by his side and entertained him, trading polite questions about their work. It looked like his contact would not be able to make it.  
It was disappointing to have come this far without seeking an audience with the alchemist, but no more work to do meant he could relax and enjoy the party. Although, under her attention a different kind of tension was mounting. She stared, but she didn’t gape at him like many did when they saw his scar. For once it just felt like open, honest regard. Appreciative regard.

“Do you know Lady Marie well?” he asked.  
“I have not seen Lady Marie for some time,” she frowned. “It is unlike her to miss this. But the School of Cat was not far from the city she served. Why wouldn’t a witcher meet her there?”  
“Perhaps if we were not in mixed company I would be happy to elucidate our ways,'' he said.  
“Ah,” she smiled, “Well how about I give you the grand tour of the castle?”  
He offered his arm. “Lead the way.”

:::

She sat perched on the edge, skirts up and over her honey golden brown thighs glowing in fluttering torchlight. He thumbed at her laces and underthings deftly revealing more and more of her. She must have looked perfectly debauched sitting on a table, legs hoisted around the hips of the man crowding close against her. 

“So what part is glamor and what part is you?” he asked.  
“Why have need for glamor at a masquerade?” she retorted.  
“Just wanting to know where I can touch that you’ll enjoy,” he said, sucking kisses down her neck just like she hoped he would. She reached to unlace his britches and gave a soft gasp as she sized him up in her hands.  
“I wish we had more time,” she lamented.  
“Between the two of us a witcher and a sorceress we should be able to make time,” he chuckled.  
She laughed, “No that’s not what I meant...I’ll be honest I don’t know if I can properly receive you so swiftly.”  
“O-Oh…” he stuttered stilling. He had been rocking against her grip insistently but now he could better sense her trepidation. But then he said “Then we must take the time to prepare you.” Slowly, he knelt down in front of her, dragging his hands down her body to rub at her thighs and spread them wider. “Oh, Witcher,” she gasped. 

With a stripe up of his tongue he split her open, wet. Just gentle, sucking pressure against the lips of her entrance. He tongued gently at the pearl he sought and mouthed at it.  
She felt feeble against the tender onslaught, barely able to prop herself up on her arms to see his scarred mouth press into her center. He gently turned his head to and fro, rubbing his face into her. At that overwhelming sensation, she whimpered and flexed her calves from where they were propped up against his back.  
Then he pushed his tongue into her.  
“Oh” she cried and without thinking she shoved the heel of her foot down on his back to push him closer to her. The hand she had been running through his hair she clutched to encourage him to bury his face in her. She sighed as she let him delve into her again and again until he had to tap her thigh gently to release her hold on him. He took that chance to breathe and admire his handiwork. Drops of her trailed down her thighs and he followed them with his fingers back up to the well. Her face grew slack with pleasure and she shuddered at his touch. Slowly, slowly, he pushed in, exploring her walls. With a shared, heated look, he started a gentle rhythm. She would clench and relax intermittently like her body didn’t know how to handle it. He bowed his head to taste her again. 

An overwhelming sensation was building and coiling inside her against this sweet torture. She sobbed against her palms she had shoved against her mouth as her body finally broke under his attention. Triumphant, he kissed his way up her twitching body to find her lips and hauled her upright in his arms. They held each other, blissful and boneless. She had her arms draped around his shoulders, dragging her fingers through the damp hair on the nape of his neck.

“I would still like to try...that is...if you’re game,” he said haltingly, as if afraid to break the spell.  
She could sense his longing...oh he hasn’t wanted like this, been desired like this, in a long, long, time…  
“I don’t see why not,” she said sweetly. She unwrapped her arm from around him and lay back on the table. He grabbed her hand and had her grip his forearm. “Tell me if I am advancing too fast,” he whispered and kissed her cheek before eagerly rearing up in position.  
He rubbed the girth of him all around the mess they made until he was coated in her slick. Then bit by bit, he fed her the length of his cock. He was holding her open, his hands hooked behind her knees sweet wet drag with each thrust. At one particular point she gave an mm of discomfort and squeezed his forearm. As promised, he stopped and waited for her to adjust. She wriggled and flexed against him, feeling him tremble from restraint until finally she relaxed a little and urged him on with a whispered plea. He spread her thighs just a bit more and leaned into her just a bit more, a bit more and a bit more until he was fully seated against her. 

“By the gods,” she sighed. The pressure was insistent and she felt truly skewered. His slow, thorough rhythm pushed out delighted pants and she gripped the edge until the wood strained under her fingers. He gently traced where she was stretched around him. It felt like he was going to fuck her through the table! Her warmth clutched at him with each retreat and with every tight push she yielded, only slowly. The dichotomy of it all rent his careful restraint in two. Anything to be closer to her...

She practically squealed when he lifted her hips up off the table, and squirmed in his grip to fully bottom out against him. “Oh GODS,” she sobbed only to have him clap one of his hands over her mouth. Shh he begged, and placed an open mouthed kiss on her shoulder and neck, gently biting there. She pressed down against him and moaned deliciously into his hand. 

All too soon her rhythmic fluttering around his cock sent him pulsing over the edge.  
“Ah fuck.” he moaned. His eyes were clenched shut, but at her gentle touch on his face they snapped open to stare into hers.  
She looked positively wrecked. Her curls tumbled haphazardly over her face, having long escaped her styling. Her mouth was softly open, panting. Behind her own mask, her eyes were glazed, pupils blown wide. He couldn’t help but lose himself in her in every way. 

:::

“Your medallion..can you take it off I can feel it vibrating against the edges of my mind. It’s quite distracting,” she mumbled against his chest.  
He laughed and moved it backwards around his neck. “The medallion stays on. Perhaps being so close to your power is activating it.”  
“Ah well,” she sighed and moved to dress. 

“My thanks Witcher,” she murmured and with a brush of one last kiss against his lips she started to move away.  
“But wait, I never caught your name my Lady...?”  
“Unimportant. Good hunting, Sir Witcher.”

**Author's Note:**

> "He eventually managed to trick it into drinking blood from a woman he paid to be heavily intoxicated with substances that would weaken it. After that he managed to kill it with ease and took its carcass back to Kaer Morhen with him. Proper examination of the vampire's body parts, he believed, could lead to discovering a new witcher method of age determination based on footsteps."


End file.
